


the sandwich man

by doctorkilljoy



Series: Fic For The Holidays [4]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Reggie and the Full Effect, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Alternate Universe, Borderline Spying, Fluff, Is it spying if they know you're doing it?, M/M, Never In A Band, People Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkilljoy/pseuds/doctorkilljoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is a postal worker on a new route, and one of the residents draws his attention like no one ever has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sandwich man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kymellin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kymellin/gifts).



> Yep, ANOTHER holiday fic. Hopefully if anyone's subscribed to me you don't mind the flood of alert e-mails. I swear this isn't going to happen again. This one's for kymellin! She had the idea of Frank having a regular job at the post office, I had the idea of Dewees wearing the costume. Unbeta'd.

Monday 

It was the first day on a new route, and thankfully, this neighborhood was his last for the day. It was getting late in the afternoon, and he knew he had to be back at the post office by four. Frank had on his sunglasses, and was glad he'd opted for the shorts instead of slacks that day. It had been surprisingly warm out, and the air conditioner in the mail truck was broken.

It was when he walked up to the house in the middle of the block, he saw the man. He was on the large side, at least compared to Frank, sitting in a lawn chair on his front walk. He had a pair of opera glasses and, for some reason, was dressed like a sandwich. Specifically a hoagie.

Frank knew he wasn't one to point fingers; he was covered in tattoos and worked for the post office for fuck's sake. But this was just weird. The man smiled at him, and held up a hand in greeting. "Hey, I'll take those."

"Uh... Yeah, okay," said Frank, handing over the mail for the house. It wasn't much, a couple advertisements and what looked like a utility bill.

The sandwich man smiled at Frank and said, "Have a nice day!" Then he turned, and put the opera glasses in front of his eyes. Frank looked over to see what he was looking at, and saw a little boy getting sprayed with a garden hose by a girl in a purple tutu. The man's laughter rang in Frank's ears as he continued down the block.

Frank ignored it, or at least tried to.

* * *

 

Tuesday 

After what had happened the previous day, Frank wasn't sure what to expect this time. But there he was, in the lawn chair, in the sandwich get up. But instead of opera glasses, he appeared to have a spyglass, like what the pirates used in the movies. He was giggling over something as Frank approached.

Frank had checked the mail this time, and learned the guy's name was James Dewees. Frank hadn't seen any other mail for other residents, so Frank assumed that he lived alone. When he approached, the guy put down the spyglass.

"Hi!" He said enthusiastically, and was barely restraining himself.

"That girl creamin' her brother with the hose again?" Frank asked.

"Nope. C'mere," he said. Frank crouched by Dewees, who pointed in a direction, then handed the spyglass to Frank. Frank looked through it where Dewees indicated, and nearly choked on his own laughter.

And old man was in his living room, dancing with his dog. The dog was wearing a tutu, and Frank was pretty sure it was the tutu the little girl had been wearing yesterday. He wasn't a hundred percent sure, but Frank thought the guy might be singing to the dog. The dog, which was a giant French Mastiff, didn't seem the least bit annoyed.

Frank handed the spy glass back, laughing. "What the hell?"

"I don't know but it happens most Tuesdays or Thursdays," he replied, chuckling.

Frank gave him his mail and said, "Good for him I guess. Take it easy."

"Yeah you too!" Dewees said, then went back to watching the old man and his dog. Frank might have stared at him a little when he got back in the mail truck.

* * *

 

Wednesday 

Wednesdays no matter what route he was working, Frank always ended up running late. It was almost five by the time he got to Dewees' neighborhood, and he was not in a great mood. Still, the weird guy in the middle of the block looked as content as ever.

Frank was a little more used to seeing him in the sandwich get up by now, but Dewees seemed to have a new visual aid every day. Today, it was a monacle. He happily waved to Frank as he approached, and said, "You should stick around, the show's about to start."

"What show?" Frank asked.

"The neighborhood is on!" Dewees replied, grinning.

Frank raised an eyebrow and asked, "Where have I heard that before?"

" _The 'Burbs_ ," he said helpfully. "It's true though, at least here. My neighbors are weird."

Frank blurted out, "Your NEIGHBORS are weird?" And he gestured to the sandwich costume.

"I didn't say I wasn't," he replied.

He shook his head. "I'm gonna pass, maybe next time." He couldn't help smiling though.

"Whenever you want, neighborhood is on every day. Hey what's your name?"

"I'm Frank."

"I'm James, people usually call me Dewees," he replied, giving a little wave. "Come by any time."

Frank was a little annoyed, as he still had the rest of the block to do. But the guy was just... Nice. And he had to admit he was actually pretty cool, someone under other circumstances he'd want to get to know better. Possibly on a date.  So he said, "Yeah, maybe I will. See ya." And Frank went about his duties.

* * *

 

Thursday 

He was running early today, which was new. When he went to drop off Dewees' mail, he wasn't in the front yard. It made Frank raise an eyebrow. But when he approached the front door, it opened, and there he was. Lawn chair in one hand, and magnifying glass in the other.

"You're not gonna like, burn ants or something are you?" Frank asked.

"Nah, I'm good friends with Ant-Man, he'd be pretty pissed if I started killing his friends," Dewees told him, chuckling. He moved around Frank, then set his lawn chair up. "Staying today?"

He looked at his watch. Frank realized he did have about an hour to kill before he had to be back at the office. So he said, "Let me drop off the rest of this mail, then yeah you've got a deal." Dewees grinned, and Frank went to deliver the mail.

He did it in record time, and when his bag was empty he walked back to Dewees' house. When he returned there was an extra lawn chair and a pair of binoculars waiting for Frank, along with a pair of sodas. Frank collapsed into the free chair, only just then realizing how tired he was.

"You watching the old man and his dog again?" Frank asked.

Dewees shook his head, and handed Frank the opera glasses from Monday. "Today we are watching Mrs. Klasky and her incredible escape artist toddler."

"Wait, what?" Frank asked, frowning.

Dewees pointed at a house, where a pretty woman was working in her front garden. There was a baby in a play pen, and the fluffiest damn cat that Frank had ever seen. Frank shrugged, and looked through the opera glasses. The kid didn't seem to be doing much of anything to Dewees... Until they rolled over.

The kid went to the baby gate, and was bouncing and shrieking to get the cat's attention. The cat ran right to the kid and, amazingly, got the front part of the gate open. The toddler started to wander, but without missing a beat, Mrs. Klasky picked the kid up by the back of the shirt and put the child back in the pen.

This happened about three more times, until Mrs. Klasky had apparently had enough and put the cat in the pen with the toddler. The kid laughed and hugged the cat, and Frank was chuckling.

"So she's on to them?" Frank asked, handing the opera glasses back to Dewees.

"Oh yeah, but she always forgets to put Nugget in the pen with the baby," Dewees pointed out. He gestured, and Frank could see from where they were that the kid was snuggled up with the cat and taking a nap. Mrs. Klasky had put up some sort of awning over them and Frank was pretty sure they were asleep.

"The cat's name is Nugget?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, dunno why but it is. The kid's name is Caden," Dewees rolled his eyes at that.

"Boy or girl?"

"I don't know. Never thought to ask."

Frank laughed at that. "Any other fun tidbits for this afternoon?"

"If you hang around until later this evening you can watch the Baxter kids and their continuing experiments with incendiary devices. It's very scientific." Dewees was smirking at that.

"Let me guess, they're sticking cherry bombs under trash cans or some shit."

Dewees faked a shocked expression and said, "How did you know?"

"Mighta done the same thing when I was a kid." Frank was grinning now. "Can't tonight, I've got shit I gotta do."

"You're missing out," Dewees informed him, a very serious look on his face.

"Oh I'm sure," Frank replied, laughing. He opened one of the sodas, and sipped it. "Anything else fun happening?"

Dewees checked his watch. "It's Thursday right?" Frank confirmed that it was, then shook his head. "Nah, she won't be by today. But when you come back tomorrow you'll see her."

"See who?" Asked Frank.

* * *

 

Friday 

Frank had to admit, he was very curious as to who Dewees had been talking about yesterday. They'd had a good time laughing at some of the sillier things Dewees neighbors had been doing, but they had also talked a little about music. Frank had confessed that his "shit to do" was actually spending some quality time with his guitar.

He'd learned that Dewees was a musician too, and he said, "If you like music, you definitely have to be here tomorrow, you are NOT gonna wanna miss her."

It had distracted Frank all day, and when he got to Dewees' neighborhood, it was to see that he wasn't the only person out. Mrs. Klasky was out with her toddler again, cat in the pen with the baby this time. The woman with the two kids was out, the boy and girl seeming to behave. The old man was out on his porch, along with several other people that Frank didn't know. And everyone seemed to be waiting.

Frank delivered all the mail, leaving Dewees' house for last. He had two chairs out, and he was wearing a top hat with his sandwich outfit. "Hi Frank!" he said, waving. "Sit down, she'll be here soon."

"Who?" Frank asked, giving Dewees his mail.

"Quiet, you'll be able to hear her before you see her," he said to Frank, handing him a bottle of water.

About fifteen minutes later, he could hear something. It was a high, clear voice singing Italian opera. Frank was a little surprised, but even more so when the woman actually walked by. She was in head to toe black lace, and the dress looked almost Victorian. Her hair was the same color as her dress, and she wore a large hat with a veil. She looked older, maybe in her forties or fifties, but her voice was a perfect soprano.

Frank just stared as the woman walked by. She was definitely in a world of her own, but she knew what she was doing. Her voice was beautiful, and Frank loved it. He looked at Dewees, who was smiling serenely. It made Frank's stomach swoop, which took him by surprise. However, he didn't say anything about it.  

When the woman was gone, everyone went back into their respective homes. "Does she do that every Friday?" Frank asked.

"Every Friday at around 3 PM," he answered. "She only walks the one way, and she's always singing something different. Today it was opera, last week it was Siouxsie and the Banshees. But it's always the same girl, same hat, same dress."

"Wonder where she's going..."

"No idea," Dewees said, shrugging.

"Thanks man," said Frank, grinning at him. "That was amazing."

"No problem."

Frank didn't want to get up. He wanted to stick around with Dewees and talk music and his weird neighbors, and maybe finally ask what the hell was with the sandwich costume he always wore. But he checked his watch, and he knew he had to go back to the post office. "I'll see you tomorrow."

It was hard, but Frank got up and went back to work.

* * *

 

Saturday 

Frank was having a terrible day. He hadn't slept well, which made him late, he'd skipped breakfast and completely forgotten his lunch. And to top it all off, he was running late again, which meant he wouldn't be able to stop and chat with Dewees.

He liked hanging out with him, he was a cool guy. It didn't hurt that Dewees was cute, and very likely single. Frank had been out of the dating game for a long time, but he was pretty sure that Dewees was interested in him. Or at least Frank hoped so.

Frank hadn't quite worked up the courage to ask him out yet, however. When he got to his neighborhood, Frank delivered the mail, saving Dewees' letters for last. He found him in his usual lawn chair, but this time he was frowning.

"You're really late," he said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I can't hang out today, kinda woke up on the wrong side of the bed y'know?" Frank said, handing him his letters.

"Wait a minute," he replied. Dewees took one of the envelopes and handed that back to Frank. "Pretty sure this one's for you." Frank frowned. The address and Name said James Dewees, so he ried to give it back. But Dewees said, "No seriously, it's yours. Open it."

Figuring it was just another one of the weird things that made him Dewees, Frank did as he asked. There was a card inside with a picture of a daschund in a crown on it. Frank opened it, and couldn't help grinning. He read aloud, "To the hot mail carrier, you wanna go out sometime? Sincerely, Dewees." He looked up and asked, "You couldn't just ask for my number?"

"I thought this way was more fun. So how about it?" Dewees asked. "I'm free tomorrow night."

Frank laughed, and took a pen out of his pocket. He wrote his number on the envelope and handed it to Dewees. "I'm in, call me tonight."

Dewees lit up at that, taking the envelope from Frank. "You got it!"

* * *

 

Sunday 

Frank showed up to Dewees' house at six, as he'd been instructed. Frank had dressed up a little, wearing a shirt with a cardigan and tie. But he was also wearing skinny jeans and Converse sneakers, so not super conservative. When he saw what was set up on the front lawn, he started laughing.

Dewees was waiting for him, this time though, Dewees wasn't in the sandwich costume, just a t-shirt and jeans. He hadn't even bothered with shoes.  He was sitting at a table that was set with candles and dinner. Dinner being fries and veggie burgers. Dewees had made sure to text him and ask about his dietary preferences, and didn't seem perturbed that Frank was a vegetarian.

"Dining outdoors are we?" Frank asked, sitting down.

"I figure, the neighborhood puts on a show for me all week, I can put on a show for them." Dewees replied. Frank laughed, shaking his head.

"You're crazy, man," Frank said, but he didn't mind.

Dewees shrugged. They started eating, and were talking more music and their different interests. But finally, Frank asked, "Okay, what's with the sandwich suit?"

"Oh that? It's my work uniform," Dewees replied. "I have a job at Sal's Sandwiches. I wear the costume with a mascot head and dance in front of the store to try to entice people inside. Usually I'm too tired to change clothes when I get home. Also I look really cute in that outfit."

Frank grinned. "I'll say you do." He got up, and moved his chair around so he was sitting closer to Dewees. "So cute I say you should wear it the next time we have a date."

"There's gonna be a next time?" Dewees asked. "You do realize I've been talking about being a junk food connoisseur for 20 minutes right?"

"Yeah," Frank was smiling now. "Look, I signed up for a boring life. Sure I've got the tats and everything, and once I even wanted to be a professional musician. But I decided... I love music, more than anything. And if I made it my job, I might not love it anymore. So I kinda fell into work at the post office, so that music could still be my passion."

Dewees was frowning now, and he said, "I hate to interrupt, but what does this have to do with me?"

"I like you because you're weird, and also you're pretty fucking joyful about... Everything. Which is pretty fucking amazing. And I wanna get to know you better. Best way to do that? Second date, if you're up for it," said Frank.

"I--" But he was cut off, by a sudden, loud sound. Frank turned his head just in time to see Dewees' trashcan go flying. Frank could hear laughter, and some of it was Dewees. The rest was three kids that quickly ran down the block.

"I see the Baxter kids are having more luck with the cherry bombs!" Frank observed, laughing.

Dewees was laughing too. "I'll get 'em back. But for now..." He was smiling at Frank, and he pulled him in for a kiss. It surprised Frank, certainly, but he kissed back. When they broke apart, Dewees added, "That's a yes to that second date."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Mrs. Klasky is a reference to the woman who created the Rugrats, which I was marathoning when I wrote this. The woman in black is based off a real woman I saw once in San Francisco. So they're not totally original.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://talkingcinemalight.tumblr.com)


End file.
